A tale of the winter 1915 near Kensington Rd
by Chansemweje
Summary: [CATS] What flits through the cold streets of London in winter? A cat on silent paws it is. Enter MacBeth...


Of the happenings in the winter of 1915 near Kensington Road

Chapter One: Just before dusk in November 

Winter was eager to begin early this year. Therefore, the tomcat shivered when his paws touched the terazzo on the dusk of this november-evening. He took his time to get familiar with the temperature of the terrace, even seemed to ponder going back into the house before finally he decided to sit down on the mosaic of blue and white tiles and watch his surroundings.   
Mist rested on the large garden, covering the more brown than green grass with hoarfrost which dimly sparkled in the reddish light. Slowly the tom stepped down, halting and sniffing at single fallen branches he encountered. Dried chestnut, hazel and cherry twigs lay scattered across the lawn, though strangely those trees were nowhere to be seen; Small bushes, willows and firs grew in the garden. There must have been a storm earlier this autumn.

Curiously the cat moved faster, towards the fence marking the end of the estate. Once he turned back to peer at his new home. A nice house, without a doubt. Spacious, light and adored with many large windows it had given the housemaids a scare when they had looked at it for the first time a week ago. Smoky and dirty as this city was the glass promised to be a hard job to keep clean. Not his concern, was it. The tom liked the new manor rather much. Not as much as the castle back in the glends for sure, but it could have been worse. He shrugged and went on.  
  
He slid through the wrought iron bars and tried to find himself a way through the thick boughs obscuring the view on his family's new house. He shuddered as frost fell from the twigs and dried leaves and showered his tan fur.   
Only moments later he reached the other side of the tall hedge. After just a few meters the grass ended and the ground made an abrupt slope down. Jakkapas saw frost sparkle on all varieties of scrap metal, old equipment and appliances when he looked down. Something that looked like the back of a car and a wheel and not to forget loads of rubbish.   
A refuse pit? So this was the reason for the tall hedge. He looked at the dark brick buildings towering over and enclosing the yard, so typical for London. The cat frowned. He had expected to encounter a more noble neighbourhood.  
Somewhere around a few corners a dog barked.  
  
Gracefully he hopped down onto the back of the car and sniffed. This place scented of cats - though no tom seemed to have claimed the area in particular, at least he didn't smell any acid sign of that. The lid of the car stood a tad ajar, the tom slipped his head through. The inside was empty and so he reached onto the bottom with one paw before retreating again.   
Variously colored fur stuck to the underside of his paw. White, black, red, black with white tips, brown, cream-colored... A wide variety, which proposed this was the local posse's meeting place. He shook the fur off.  
The barks suddenly became louder and closed in from the alley leading to the backyard; a piece of scrap metal clattered onto the ground. The hair on the tom's tail rose and he backed away from the car.  
  
Another clang right above?  
  
An amorphous mass buried the explorer before he could even look up. Hissing and kicking he wiggled off a load of empty cans and boxes along with a staggered young tom who apparently had plunged down by accident. Then he hastily looked down the lane, the dog however was already dragged away by his human on the far end of the dark lane. The tom heaved a breath before gazing at the young cat who still assembled himself. He was barely an adult, rather thin and wiry, and his brown and white fur part patches part stripes.  
  
"Who're you?" the explorer asked, ears still flattened.  
  
The young raised his head and mustered the stranger for a second before he warily answered.   
"Pouncival." Still shaky from being chased by the dog Pouncival felt not up to put much attention to the new arrival already. Nevertheless even the quick once over had told him the mature tom was a bit past his best years. His pelt indicated an aristocratic blood, being merely a little lighter than Cassandras but otherwise of similar quality. Pouncival didn't like the way the stranger bristled his whiskers, but he probably had been scared, too.  
  
"Stupid dog wanted me for dinner," he tried to joke as he got up. The shock was leaving Pouncival's limbs while he talked and stretched. "I've never seen you here before. You new? What's your name?"  
The elder cat seemed to unwind, too. "Jakkapas," he then answered loftily with half a smile, apparently somewhat amused about the sudden flow of questions. "I'll live here from now on."  
Upon Pouncival's confused expression he nodded at the manor up the slope. Just in this moment a small bell jingled from the indicated direction. Both looked up.  
  
"MacBeth!" a woman's voice called from somewhere up in the garden. "MacBeth?"  
  
Jakkapas turned to his new aquaintance. "Excuse me, my dinner awaits." Without further ado he bound up the rise.  
"Eh, chap?"  
Frowning Jakkapas turned. "What?!" Chap!  
"A bunch of us meets here now and then. Mmmaybe you'd like to have a peek in some time.?"  
Jakkapas turned his back on him and continued on his path. "Only if they have more manners than you do," he stated casually as he disappeared under the bough.  
  
Pouncival stared at the hedge for a moment, then shook his head and tittered. "Excuse me, my dinner awaits," he mocked as he hopped down from the large tire.


End file.
